


The Pursuit of Alfie Wickers

by Mystique84



Category: Bad Education (UK TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode Remix, F/M, Hilarity Ensues, Loss of Virginity, Older Woman/Younger Man, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:36:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8721052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystique84/pseuds/Mystique84
Summary: Isobel Pickwell is a woman with a mission. To take Alfie Wickers virginity. She will have to jump burning buildings, cross wide rivers and - bugger it, Isobel is a woman with a plan and she will get that virginity without falling in love in the process. A slight re-write of episodes that have Isobel stalking Alfie like a deer.





	1. The Pursuit of Alfie Wickers

Sex education

 

One could say that Isobel Pickwell was a determined woman (if one could even say woman) and her goal was to ruin the innocence of one Alfie Wickers. Why would Isobel want to do such a thing? For one thing, she wanted that innocence kept in a jar on her mantle. Not literally of course, figuratively. Sweet, naïve, precious and stupid Alfie was saving that first time for someone special and what did she care. It was a prize to be won, that first time that the 25 year old man had kept close and dear to his heart was going to be hers forever. She was going to be imprinted on him forever and what would that be, but the worst torture. 

This was a relatively new plan of torment that occurred to her after the fiasco that was sex education week when Alfie admitted to not only his class, and not only teachers and parents, but to the entire world (via web cam) that he was a virgin. And oh, Rosie Gulliver tried to make him feel better but why when it was funnier to watch him squirm. So that is where Isobel Pickwell currently sat, figuring out the best method of torture and not having any idea of how to implement it (legally anyway). She stalked him in the hallway, the girl in his class…Shelly? Whatever. Alfie was pressed against the wall by the girl. His fear was obvious and it made Isobel think of her approach for Wickers. 

She couldn’t scare the wee lamb, no jump approach wasn’t the way to go….until the plan started to fail. She needed to approach this like a hunter approached a deer. Silently.  
“Mr Wickers.” Alfie jumped a foot in the air. “Welcome back.”

“Yeah, yeah thanks.” He managed to extract himself from the embrace the girl was trying to get him in, Isobel watched him struggle. However as soon as he removed himself he was unsure of which evil he should face, going with Miss Pickwell or staying with Chantelle. Going with Isobel won, he was not likely to end up in jail going with her…maybe “See ya later Chantelle.” The girl pouted and sauntered off. 

Isobel rolled her eyes and nodded her head towards her office door, “May I have a word with you Mr Wickers.” 

“Sure, totally.” 

“Mr Wickers, you are a teacher. You should set a better example around the students with your language.” Her scottish rolling off her tongue. 

She turned into her office as Alfie mimicked her (badly) behind her back and she rolled her eyes. As soon as he entered she slammed the door with such a crack that the frames on the wall snapped. Alfie gulped and leapt to the singular chair set aside for those who dared to enter her office. Isobel smirked.

Her first approach to seducing Alfie needed to be soft, graceful, peaceful. Because if she failed this time then she had a chance to try again whereas if she forced herself upon him she lost all hope of ever repeating this experiment. So, instead of her regal spot in her chair she sat upon the edge of her desk. It was a more relaxed position, it was the position she had seen a number of students and teachers alike partake in and then subsequently get themselves laid (in those pornographic movies she watched on occasion), so if she applied the same tactics then this could work. Running her fingers through her hair and ‘effortlessly’ picking at the hair tie and few hair pins that held it up. The silence rebounded off the walls but as she played with her hair she noticed that her shorter than usually skirt had drifted up her leg and Alfie noticed too. His eyes darted to her leg and to her face only twice. 

She smirked once more, she withdrew her hand from her hair and set it on the table, in front of his face (not necessarily in front of his gaze). “Mr Wickers, your month long absence has caused quite a disturbance in the staff’s lives.”

“I didn’t mean to” he said, panicked. He gazed up at her and he noticed a twinkle of evil laughter in her eyes (how can one have evil laughter in their eyes? When one is sadistic as Isobel Pickwell you can find out yourself). “What do you care.” He tried to retorted but failed miserably to have fire behind the words. 

“Because I had to take some of your classes.” She mock pouted, she then leapt from her position and stood very, very close to Alfie, practically leaning over him. “What are you going to do to make it up to me?” 

“Uh….well….I can give you a bar of chocolate..”

“I don’t like sweets…at least by themselves anyway.” Cheeky smile quirked her lips. 

“I have a few pounds on me?”

“Do I look like a hooker?” she purred, moving just a breath closer.

“Um? I’m sorry I don’t know what you want.” He whispered.

Isobel moved in for the kill when there was a loud knock at the door and several things happened at once. Alfie fell from his chair, the door swung open and Isobel stood up so fast her head started to spin. Fraser stood there and prattled on about Alfie, mum.net and his class and Isobel told them oh so politely to bugger off as she formulated her next plan. 

The next time she did this she there must be no one to distract her from her goal and take her prize away. Oh what a game this had turned into.


	2. School Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Update finally. Fire under my butt.

The man was an idiot! Stupid Fraser! How could the man _lose_ 10 teen students. Isobel stomped down the empty hall of the school trying to find evidence that the students had returned to the school to collect their belongings before taking off but in every locker she looked they remained untouched and the incompetent Head of Abbey Grove grew more panicked. He was responsible for the students and with them missing he was going to have to deal with their very angry parents. Knowing the man, he was going to fob them off onto Isobel and leave all responsibility to her once again.

She wished that something would happen to Fraser, he was reckless and careless, he was more of a student than a teacher. And yet he was more highly ranked than herself? It was a disgrace to the education system.

What was left of it anyway.

She ventured back to her office and tried to find the records of school numbers, obviously not for parents but the unlisted numbers for students. Schools didn’t usually ask their students for their mobile numbers but in the case of Abbey Grove, Isobel Pickwell thought it beneficial to get this information. The amount of times it worked in her favour were too many to list. It wasn’t all that difficult to find these numbers, tricks usually got the dimmer students to toss up the numbers while Grayson got the tougher students to hand over their numbers. She had almost 99% of the student’s numbers on her tablet.

Isobel picked up the phone and made the several calls to the students and was relieved to find that almost all of them picked up their phones on the first ring. Her cold strict voice reached down the phone and made the conversation short and apologetic on the other end. All students were accounted for.

Almost.

She tried the last number over and over, she called the other students back and asked about the student and they said they hadn’t seen the student for a couple hours. It wasn’t a panic, far from it, it was irritation.

Isobel slammed down the phone as the call once again failed and tore open her draw. Inside was bottle of vodka and a glass (yes a simple glass because at the end of the day a shot wasn’t enough). It wasn’t every day she did this but if she was going to be assaulted tomorrow by angry parents she was going to give back as good as she got. And that meant getting a little plastered tonight. The willowy woman kicked off her shoes and sighed as her feet were released from tight confines, her stockings also had to go. That was a little less dignified. She reached under her skirt and detached them from her garter before rolling them down her porcelain leg. The black making her skin seem like the moon against the night sky. She rolled her jacket off her shoulders and let it drop to the ground, she had chosen a less formal shirt today, still high necked but short sleeved, there was a reason she never wore anything that exposed her shoulders but that was another tale. Isobel cracked her neck and stood, gripping her feet in the cool carpet. She snatched the bottled and glass up in one hand and left the room, swinging open the door with little care for who heard her.

She sauntered down the hallway in her bare feet, looking in the classrooms and watching the sunlight poor out of the sky. The rumbles of traffic and the yelling of chavs was not her worry at the moment, she was going to head to the roof of the school, have a drink and watch the moon rise. Maybe howl a bit, if things got crazy.

Isobel started to pick out the hair pins in her immaculate coil as she climbed the stairs, a slap for each concrete step she took and her foot colliding with it and a ping for each hair pin that dropped to the ground. Her locks started to unravel and brush against her neck, traveling just over her shoulders piece by piece. Isobel reached the roof door as she pulled the hair tie off, flinging it against the door knob as she opened the heavy creaking door with her almost free hand and her behind. Securing the door open with a lying brick, the now tired woman finally made it to the her destination, an abandoned steel bench that overlooked the East courtyard.

However it was already occupied. 

“Mr Wickers?”

“Miss Pickwell!” Alfie turned around in the seat so fast that he fell from his perch and slammed into the concrete, making an audible wince. “Ouch”

“What are you doing up here?”

“Me! What about you?”

Isobel glared at him and went around to the front of the bench, placing her bottle and glass down on the ground and her hands on her hips instead. “This is my spot.”

“No it’s not.”

“Stop being so stubborn, who do you think maintains this area?” she snapped.

“Who put the bench up here in the first place?” He said, smirking. She balked, that was a good question, Isobel just assumed the bench had always been there. She only started going up the roof a few years ago…around the same time Alfie turned up. Oh. “Ha!”

“Fine, you’re right!” She bent down to pick up her things but he seized her arm. “What?”

He let go of her arm and shyly brushed the back of his head, “I mean, you can share up here if you want…it’s pretty clean and stuff and if you want to keep doing that and hang here that’s cool.” He scratched his arm like a nervous teen, “It was pretty grotty up here before so yeah….thanks.”

Isobel was pleasantly surprised by this that she took a step back – and almost fell off the roof. Alfie reached out and grabbed a hold of her waist in an instant and pulled Isobel to his chest. “Woah!”

“Thank-Thank you Wickers, I mean-”

“Hey look, enough already, just call me Alfie and if you share some of that with me I won’t tell a soul about the roof or you almost falling off it.” Alfie said, brushing her off.

Isobel was once again surprised by this and mutely nodded, passing him the glass. He plopped himself back down and left enough room for Isobel to sit, “So, Pickwell, what’s got your knickers in a twist that you came up here…with vodka….and on school grounds!” he mocked.

Shaking her head clear she sat beside him and unscrewed the bottle, pouring the vodka, just a half shot’s worth in the glass for Alfie, “One of Fraser’s students went missing on the trip.”

“Oh crap.” He replied, he held the glass and took tiny sips of it, making faces as he did. Isobel grinned and took a swig from the bottle, “What about the others?”

“All accounted for. Just the one missing, thank god.”

“Thank god?”

“Well I found the other nine so it’s only one missing now.”

“HE LOST TEN?” Alfie shouted. “OH MY GOD!”

“Yes I know, we are in deep trouble when the parents find out.” She took another swig of the vodka and poured Alfie another, “That damn Finnigan boy.”

Alfie lent down in his seat and managed to down his drink in shot in one go, but almost coughed it back up for lack of experience, “Wait a second, Finnigan…Jackson Finnigan?”

Isobel took another drink from the bottle, not yet offering to Alfie as he was still a little queasy looking from his half shot. “Yeah, scraggly thing, shoes too big for his tiny feet and tie to short and thin for his fat head.”

“Shut up for a second yeah, that kid was on my field trip today.”

Isobel stared him dead in the eye, “You’re pulling my leg Wick-Alfie…”

“I swear on my life. That kid isn’t in Fraser’s English class, he’s in Mollinson’s Maths class.” They both stared out into the distance as the stars started to twinkle in the night sky and the vodka started to take effect, more so on Alfie than on Isobel. They sat in silence as it dawned on them slowly that this wasn’t necessarily a feud anymore but something else, not anywhere near friendship but not enemies anymore. Of course neither wanted to admit it, to each other or themselves. 

“Alfie…thanks. If I didn’t know that I would have drunken myself into a stoop and probably gone off to kill Fraser for losing a student that was never lost.”

“S’no problem.” He muttered, his head was starting to droop, Isobel thought now was the perfect opportunity to implement of plan of seducing Alfie, friendship could work….it was already. His guard was down and he was sort of drunk. She splashed another shot of vodka into his glass and took another drink from the bottle.

“What are you doing up here anyway then.” She asked.

“Rosie.” He grunted.

“What about her.”

“She has a date, with a loser teacher….but he’s 23.”

“Bit young, what is she, 40?”

Alfie giggled and started to flop onto her shoulder, it was a comforting weight. You see, Isobel Pickwell was not a warm and cuddly person, she didn’t enjoy pets, or family, or even friends. So ‘cuddling’ was not something she tolerated, but this? Alfie’s drunken lean on her shoulder….it was oddly warm and welcome. Isobel wasn’t sure what to do and stiffened immediately. Alfie on the other hand was too drunk to notice, and let it be noted that the 23 year old man was drunk on not even a shot of Vodka. Half a shot. Alfie giggled into her shoulder again and Isobel felt his smile on her bare skin. It felt warm, not only physically but intimately, like a hug, this friendship approach certainly worked. Of course the roof was not the ideal place for sex and his drunken state was not ideal but it was her goal, steal his innocence and cause a little pain.

Wasn’t it?

“Your warm Izzy.” he garbled, “I thought you would be cold like ice.”

Isobel frowned, at the nickname or the slight insult she wasn’t sure, but she turned towards him, reaching for his face-

And found that Alfie Wickers had fallen asleep on her shoulder.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> More chapters to follow, each more stranger and dirtier than the last.


End file.
